called in two Prussian court architects, Hetzelt and Tuch, and
gave them ten months to have the main lodge complete. Even-
tually Carinhall would cost the taxpayer million Reichsmarks,
borne equally by the Air Ministry and Prussian government
budgets. It would become over the next twelve years an ex-
traordinary, baroque palace oversized, vulgar, and faintly lu-
dicrous, in the image of its builder. He approved every detail of
its design down to the lavish door handles. He selected the fur-
niture, designed the green-and-gold livery for the foresters and
footmen, brought back gaudy bric-à-brac from his later forays
into occupied Europe. The buildings spread and multiplied
around the center courtyard, with steep thatched roofs, foun-
tains, statues, and avenues of trees. The rooms were embellished
with the costliest crystal chandeliers, Flemish tapestries, and
priceless Old Masters. “Magnificent,” he would later exclaim to
Heinz Guderian, by then a Panzer general, showing him the
works of art at Carinhall. “I really am a Renaissance man. How I
love opulence!” Whereupon he took the visitor by the arm and
led him to the drawing room, flanked by two anterooms called
Göring designed the interior of Carinhall to resem-
ble a Swedish hunting lodge.